


Sound and Silence

by nemo_r



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Kissing, M/M, piano playing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-30
Updated: 2011-12-30
Packaged: 2017-10-28 12:58:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/308114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nemo_r/pseuds/nemo_r
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Piano playing at night, oh the originality.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sound and Silence

**Author's Note:**

> Indebted to [these](http://archiveofourown.org/works/212824) [fics](http://archiveofourown.org/works/141252).

The keys are smooth and heavy. If he presses them slowly he can bring them right down without making a sound. The cushioned hammers just coming to rest against the strings. He starts playing, soft, slow. A silent tune that only he can hear. The notes echoing inside his mind. Then one note, his finger pushing too hard and it's suddenly loud in the nightly quiet.

He draws in a shuddery breath. Raising his hands he resets them above the keys before starting again, quiet but not silent. There's no real risk of waking anyone, not down here, not this late.

The music flows over his fingers and hands, sliding up his arms, curling around his ears. He lets his eyes fall half shut and loses himself in it, the familiar motion, the way his fingers know where to go. The tune swells, crests, then falls, coming gently to a stop. He rests his fingertips on the keys a moment longer before lifting them and curling them into his hands, fingers in towards his palms. The silence has that strange fullness and William relaxes into it after all that sound.

The scrape of a shoe against the carpet is suddenly, horribly, clear.

William jerks his head around, his hand going out to catch his balance and there's an ugly crash of keys under his palm. He winces.

Thomas steps forwards into the moonlight slanting in from the window. He looks pale and other-wordly in the cold moonlight. William breathes in sharply.

"Don't stop on my acccount."

William shakes his head, turning away from Thomas. He glances down at the keys, pulling his hand away. "I wasn't, I shouldn't be-"

"No, you shouldn't." Thomas' voice grows clearer as he comes closer. "But you did."

"You won't tell anyone." William tries to stop it from becoming a question. He looks up, but Thomas has his back to the window now, and his face is in shadow. He halts beside the piano, reaching with one hand for the keys and, with elegant fingers depressing them, makes a tuneless little walk up and down with each finger.

"Don't stop," He repeats, withdrawing his hand and gesturing.

William hesitates, but after a second, when Thomas does nothing else, not even look at him, he turns back, raising his hands.

He goes for something else this time, something more suiting, slow and haunting. His fingers drift almost lazily over the keys. He foregoes the repeat, and finishes the tune early. Then he turns towards Thomas. "I should go."

Thomas says nothing, but his head is turned towards William, and William can see his eyes in the light from the window. His gaze travels over William's face, flicks down to his hands on the keys. His mouth twitches, the edges of his lips turning down for a second and he turns away.

William frowns, moving to stand. "Thomas?"

"Go on then. I'll be up later."

William hesitates. "When did you wake up? you were asleep when I left."

Thomas shrugs, still giving William his back.

William sighs, stepping out from between the stool and the piano. "Fine, be like that."

"Be like what?" Thomas spins back.

"What do you _want_ , Thomas?" William asks, hands spread. Thomas raises his eyebrows and William lowers his voice too late. They glance to the door and hold the silence, but seconds slip by and no one comes. "What do you want?" He asks again, running his hand through his hair. "I get it, I'm not good enough for Daisy, I'm not..." _good enough for you_ "... a catch, I can't do anything right. What do you want?"

Thomas gets a light in his eyes and William swallows, regretting his outburst. "What do _you_ want?" Thomas replies, taking a step towards's him.

"Thomas," William warns.

"William," he repeats, mocking.

"Thomas, don't-"

"What do you want, William?" he says, soflty now, into the air between them. He takes another step, right into William's space, and William has to force himself to hold his ground.

"Don't," he whispers, no force behind the word.

Thomas raises a hand, slowly, slowly enough William could move away. He can't breathe. Thomas brushes his thumb softly over William's bottom lip, the sensation lingering in his skin. Thomas' hand moves to his cheek, fingertips catching on the smooth line of his jaw. William can feel his heart hammering against his ribs. Thomas slides his hand round to the back of William's neck, his fingers sinking into the short hairs at the base of his skull, and William has to fight not to fight not to let his eyes roll up in his sockets. He feels boneless, melting under the rough scrape of fingernails against his skin. His eyelids flutter and when he focuses again Thomas is smirking. He tugs sharply, bringing them together and William goes where he's led.

Thomas kisses like he talks, all teeth and sharp tongue, fast and clever. He takes William apart, bringing his other hand up to run his fingers through William's hair again, palms hot as brands against William's skin. William's melting again, practically purring in Thomas' hands and he'd feel embarrassed if it didn't feel so good, if only he'd had some idea that being petted would make him fall apart like this.

Thomas eases back, hands moving to cradle William's head. William's hands find Thomas' waist, resting softly on the tops of his trousers. William' breathing heavily, panting into his mouth, their foreheads resting against each other.

"I don't, I don't understand." His eyelids flutter closed, then open again, between the shadows and the closeness, Thomas' face is just a blur. "I thought you-"

"I'm leaving."

"What?" William jerks back. Thomas' lips are shiny and red, and there are two high spots of colour in his otherwise pale cheeks.

"I'm leaving."

"Why?"

"Doesn't matter."

"The Hell it doesn't, Thomas-"

He cuts him off with another kiss, just a soft press of his lips. "I wanted this before I left." He kisses him again. "Didn't want to leave without..." Thomas presses his lips together, a frown making a tiny wrinkle between his eyes.

"Without what?" William slides his hand round to Thomas's back, figertips inching under the fabric of his shirt. He shivers, suddenly feeling bold, feeling drunk on sensation.

"Don't play William." Thomas growls, but there's a smirk underneath.

William laughs, his smile wide, and drunk is right, he'll regret this in the morning... But the morning can take care of itself. He slips a hand under the fabric to smooth up Thomas' back. "Who's playing?

Thomas _shoves_ him backwards and the piano keys crash noisily underneath them.


End file.
